City of Anime
by Birdboy
Summary: A look at Tokyo in a world where EVERY anime is canon. Crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Though I have too many series thrown in to list the actual owners of each character, they all belong to various Japanese manga-ka, animation studios and the like. No one who appeared in here is my own creation – if you don't recognize anyone, you just haven't watched enough anime.

* * *

Tokyo.

A city of catgirls and magical girls, giant robots and rampaging monsters, spiky-haired heroes, megalomaniac villains, and pretty-boy characters of questionable sexuality drifting between the two. A metropolis of over thirty million people, almost always the first target of both alien and inter-dimensional invaders(despite all the unusually-powered residents calling it home,) both the largest city on earth and the one with the most tentacle monsters per capita.

A city that has seen its best-known landmark, Tokyo Tower, destroyed in combat four times in the past year(and surviving two other destructive battles) only to be rebuilt each time as a symbol of Japanese endurance against the bizarre myriad of people and creatures who sought its destruction. A city that has endured everything from a Vamdemon-led siege to destructive earthquakes and a full-scale youkai invasion, all within a five-year period – but still managing to act as the background for idyllic high-school romances with enough twists and backstabbing to put most ninja to shame.

A city where Tenchi Masaki had journeyed once, for the sake of his education, only to find not only his own personality but also those of his friends warped utterly beyond recognition. A city Kenshin Himura once wandered through, forever trying to atone – where even today, his and Kaoru's descendants still live, one replicating his sheer courage, the other his devotion to others and hideously weak sense of self-worth. (Though due to a registry error two generations back, their name is now read as "Yagami.")

It is the city of Suzaku and Seiryu's priestesses, of Yukino and Souichiruo's blossoming love, of a girl who wound up with the Shikon no Tama in her chest – and long ago, where a certain hanyou was pinned to a tree that still stands. It is the city where Ranma Saotome learned that more girls wasn't always a good thing, where Shuichi Shindou realized he just plain preferred guys, and where Harunobu Madarame said "screw this, I'm watching Kujian."

In short, a city that gave the rest of the world a general opinion that any country which would make this its capital had to be completely and utterly nuts -- but prime minister Sohma just didn't want to hear it. (Of course, the fact that Ayame had got himself elected in and of itself had given many that opinion of Japan – but one should **never** underestimate the fangirl vote.)

"Call if chaotic, call it life-threatening -- do these crises not demonstrate the passion of our residents, of both good and evil? Is there any city more dynamic, more vibrant, more worthy of this great nation?" The bishounen paused, then turned to his secretary of defense. "That said... Sagara-kun, why do we keep getting attacked?"

"It's only a coincidence." The ex-mercenary answered stoically, glancing out the window as an angry female mob chased after a diminutive martial arts master. "Though admittedly, it is getting annoying."

"I'm sorry, Sagara-san, but I just can't agree with your hypothesis. While I admit coincidence does occur -- the odds of _this_ many bizarre incidents happening by chance are far too low to be reasonably believed, let alone all of them in the same general location." Koushirou answered, watching a squadron of low-level ninjas race to the harbor – pirates attacking, probably.

"Let's just keep taking 'em out. Hopefully they'll have some money on them next time, you can't even get a bite to eat on killing these cheap bastards these days – especially when your attacks incinerate their corpse." The cabinet member grumbled, wondering how she ever got into this world anyway – though dimensional portals were startlingly common in this city.

"On another note, Fukuoka..." The internal affairs secretary (So appointed because, in his thirty-plus trips across the islands, he had come to know Japan rather well – though Ryoga still couldn't get from point A to point any faster) began, "has been conquered by a revolutionary organization calling itself ACROSS."

"Our home country is being invaded, and we are not fighting? Onward, sweet piglet, let us take back that city! This meeting is over!"

At the sound of the word 'piglet', Ryoga shot a death glare at the cursed bishounen, then pushed the nearest female he could find into the Prime Minister – said female quickly launched a "fireball!" back at the black-haired boy in indignation.

The wreckage from the mage's flame spell, combined with the shock that someone would react **violently** to hugging what was quite possibly the hottest bishounen in Japan, (Even though this _was_ Lina Inverse.) sent what would have been a torrent of confusion across the Japanese government -- but admittedly, they _were_ in Tokyo.

"Why can't she just use a super-dimensional mallet like a normal girl?" Sousuke quietly muttered, then was promptly hit with one for his trouble.

As the sorceress sent the mech pilot crashing into the wall, the flame spell from earlier set off the sprinkler, and another cabinet member was soon turned into a very wet pig. Amidst the chaos, Ayame was soon kidnapped by a perverted fangirl guard waiting for him to change back – and owing to a severe lack of intact and human-bodied high-ranking government officials, the meeting was quickly adjourned.

* * *

"Hail Lord Ilpalazzo!" Excel shouted, with but a tenth of her energy devoted to proclaiming loudly her loyalty to the supreme leader of ACROSS – but then again, a tenth of her energy was an amount even Goku had trouble gathering.

"Hail Ilpalazzo!" Hyatt added, coughing up blood and dying – both of them acting the same way they had every other time their mission briefings began.

"As you are well aware, agents Excel and Hyatt, we have finally succeeded in the conquest of the city." The revolutionary began, voice booming through his organization's secret lair. "For such a thing to occur, given our small size, is a testament to both of your immense abilities and skills!"

"Excel doesn't really understand how three people managed to conquer the city, even given the startling incompetence of the department of civil security – but if it means getting praised by Ilpalazzo himself, she really doesn't want to question it!" The blonde agent said, words running together in a way that would make it hard for most listeners to understand, her mind thinking faster than her lips could move – the same way she had always talked.

"Excuse me, but given the intro to the story, should not this second scene actually be located in Tokyo?" Hyatt asked, finishing the sentence more or less alive.

Ilpalazzo smirked, "I was getting to that. Ultimately, for the sake of revolutionizing this world and overthrowing the modern, corrupt society, we must indeed conquer humanity's biggest city. However – logistical difficulties make this task impossible for a secret entity such as ACROSS to accomplish."

"Like having so few members?" Excel asked.

"Exactly, agent Excel." Ilpalazzo answered, his silver hair shining with beauty – or maybe that was just through Excel's idealist, love-struck eyes. "Therefore, to enable the conquest of Tokyo, we shall cast off our secrecy and begin active recruitment for ACROSS!"

* * *

In the schools of Tokyo, like the ones in most other places, the interesting things all happen in after-school clubs.

Of course, this is not to say the clubs in Tokyo are normal. While a few of them might not look out of place in Kyoto or somewhere sane, entities like the Society for the Study of Modern Visual Culture, Host Club, and Magic User's Club are also quite common in this city – why, in this place, even the student councils were usually interesting bodies! (Though they had a tendency to be more focused on lesbianism and swordfights than actual governance.)

The inter-dimensional travelers club was one of these unusual entities, and it was currently meeting.

As for the subject -- with the social consciousness that comes with having such a large percentage of the membership responsible for saving the world, combined with the likelihood _being_ one of the ones who'd be destroyed along with the city, well... issues like keeping their grades up while skipping class to save Sengoku Jidai, over-representation of chosen children in the membership, even questions like "Taichi or Syaoran, who should lead us?" -- they had all fallen by the wayside.

After all – just like last Thursday, Tokyo was in grave danger.

"We need a plan. It's too strong." Kurogane spoke, his ninja calm not yet tempered by Fai's annoyance. (Though admittedly, if ninja could wear bright orange these days and yell "dattebayo" as they finished their bold proclamations, ninja calm might not be a sensible term anymore.)

"I've led the digidestined to victory countless times without the slightest clue before, and I don't intend to start planning now!" Daisuke shot back, Taichi nodding in reluctant agreement -- Sora facepalming, but reluctantly admitting that he did have a point.

"But this enemy is still too powerful, and we can't rely on evolving again. We won't find a golden digimental in Tokyo, Daisuke-kun." Takeru answered, giving his friend a longing, subtexty glance.

Sora smiled at this, as Mokona flew around the room, fleeing the wrath of an angry Kuro-pon.

"Do we have any other members this year _not_ with Syaoran's group or the chosen children?" Kagome asked, the issue of a monster attack quickly forgotten – then just as quickly remembered, as a giant Cubone smashed through the wall and abducted the priestess of Suzaku.

"Miaka!"

"Tamahome"

"Get a room!" Kagome shouted, flushing with annoyance – Sora surmised Inuyasha was with Kikyo again.

"I'm being attacked this time... Tama-kun doesn't have the oni on his forehead, so one of you chosen, please digivolve and save me..."

"A shoujo heroine to the end." Fai muttered, still smiling, body latched onto Kurogane's. "Will our love be destroyed that way?"

"If you don't get off me soon, we'll all be destroyed!"

The giant cubone turned around, Miaka clutched tightly in its giant hand, its six-foot tail wrecking the school as it turned around.

"Don't worry, guys. He's a good pokemon."

"Agumon, you aren't helping." Taichi answered, a sweatdrop hovering to the side of his face.

"Fire, fire, fire, Thor's hammer, physical, light, light, sacred arrow, dark, physical, summoning fire/flying deities..." Kagome muttered, counting off the groups membership, "We don't have anything useful here at all!"

With those words, the giant Cubone vanished out of sight. It emerged again three seconds later in a sea of red light, Sakura muttered some sad words about only carrying one pokeball, and the orphaned beast continued walking, headed straight for Tokyo Tower.

* * *

"Okay, so if we're in this world's version of Kanto, this has to be Celadon, right? It's huge!" Kasumi said, looking around the metropolis, mouth agape in awe.

"No way. The tower and giant Cubone clearly show that we're in Lavender Town."

"This is way too big to be Lavender town, you idiot!"

"Who cares about size? Celadon isn't anywhere near this big either."

"According to the map, Kyoto would be this world's closest equivalent to Lavender Town, despite being located outside Kanto." Takeshi said, the rock-type trainer wise as ever.

"Forget about things like 'where,' I have a pokemon to catch!" Satoshi hurled the red-and-white ball at the lonely pokemon, Kasumi's advice about weakening it first seeming forever unheeded.

A small, white, long-eared creature looking a good deal like a manjuu bun flew into the path of the ball, chasing the Cubone as well from a different angle. The red light engulfed it, the ball shook three times, and 108 secret skills or none, it didn't matter...

After a brief glance at his pokedex for its name, the aspiring pokemon master held out his fingers in a victory pose.

"I caught a Mokona!"

* * *

One of the more interesting facts about life in a city which many struggles between good and evil on a day-to-day basis is that it is _very_ easy to misinterpret events.

For instance, in 1999, the chosen children had logically assumed the bizarre weather patterns in July and August had something to do with the digital world, while Miaka and Yui blamed The Universe of the Four Gods – while in reality, it was because of the dragons of Earth and the oncoming apocalypse, which only stopped because of an insanely long hiatus. (Many historians theorize that these events were actually caused by the Second Impact and had nothing to do with Kamui, but their chronology is off by a few months.)

Similarly, at this point in time, the Sohma clan had come to the conclusion that Akito had been embraced by someone of the opposite gender and consequently turned into God, unleashing a torrent of destruction upon the city. It lacked for evidence, but it made a certain level of sense -- and regardless of what Momiji and Kisa claimed to have seen, a giant Cubone destroying Tokyo was just way too absurd.

Ranma Saotome shrugged his head and ignored it, thinking it an over-the-top plan that everyone from Genma to Kuno could've thought up. A nineteen-year-old Misato Katsuragi instantly and confidently blamed angels, but no one believed her. Most of Tokyo saw it for just what it was – a _kaiju _attack – but they willed themselves to see something looking more like Godzilla or Gamera than a **giant cubone!**

Team Rocket had nothing whatsoever to do with this, as they were still in the pokemon world – but despite its un-mechanical exterior, Satoshi's confident arguments that they were behind this ultimately left them with the credit for the attack.

(Of course, it was far too competently done for them to have actually been responsible, but for a group so frequently wanting for success, they would've gladly claimed the deed)

The Cubone continued walking, devastating Shibuya with its stomp, tackle(typically thought of as weak, but at a certain size it becomes quite useful against buildings) and bone club attacks, swatting at the various self-defense force planes that got in its way.

(An astute student of pokemon battles would've said that planes are flying-type, and bone club, a ground-type attack, should have no effect on them. However, when said ground-type is tall enough to swat flying-types down, this rule has a certain way of becoming completely meaningless.)

As it approached Tokyo Tower, as the government rushed to battle ACROSS, one thing was certain – Tokyo needed a hero. It had plenty. The only problem was that most of them still had to wait a few episodes, awaken a couple more of their True Powers... so the Cubone continued unhindered along its destructive path.

* * *

In some generic spot in Japan, somewhere between Tokyo and Fukuoka, Ayame Sohma and Ilpalazzo faced each other from opposite sides of the soon-to-be battlefield. (As an interesting historical tidbit, it should be noted that this battlefield was located in the exact spot Naraku had once called home. However, other than a wholly non-lethal, barely-noticable remnant of his miasma and a couple annoying barriers, no remnants of his presence remained.)

A weak spark of sexual tension drifted across between the two leaders, as their armies(Technically "self-defence forces" or "popular revolutionary movements") stood there, waiting. Of course they were waiting – they had to be waiting, the fierce debates of right and wrong hadn't happened yet, and they hadn't disagreed fully enough for them to actually resort to fighting.

It was tradition, after all.

However, as Ilpalazzo and Ayame began their discussion, the JSDF was getting significantly concerned. For someone as bizarre and non-conformist as the current prime minister, the leader of ACROSS's criticisms about a corrupt, worthless society might just have rung a bit true.

And to make matters worse, the snake-cursed's defenses amounted to speaking quite eloquently of the greatness of Japan, but using examples such as "The pure romance of that love between a virgin schoolgirl and a tentacle monster!" were not exactly giving the soldiers confidence in their mission.

And as the predecessors of the Dummy Plug system had only been rigged up for a small percentage of the JSDF's mechs, if Ilpalazzo _could _convince the sane part of Aaya's forces to switch sides, well... it could be bad.

"_For a country that technically doesn't have a military,"_ Sousuke thought from the cockpit of his arm-slave, _"Postwar Japan certainly has an immense fear of a military coup."_

As far as he was concerned, it made sense, at one point. When the army was doing things like massacring the Sekihoutai, well... he knew his family history well enough. The Manchuria incident, the military government in the 1930s and '40s, horrible, horrible things.

With results just as horrible, for the most part, for the ancestors of today's soldiers. With a Japan that, if not always believing in its democracy, had grown accustomed to it – and was rather disturbed by the idea of a military government... he had never really thought a coup likely.

Until he realized something he should've known long ago, something that _should_ have been obvious just by their game shows and pornography – Japan was, to put it lightly, nuts.

How else could Ayame have been elected? That wouldn't happen in a nation with the slightest shred of sanity.

For a moment, as he fired at the charging Puchuu hordes, Sousuke pondered leading one. But then he shook his head, thought of his honor as a member of MITHRIL, and focused his attention back towards the battlefield.

"Darkness beyond twilight, crimson beyond blood that flows..."

"Excel does not fear your dragon slave. It is a well-known truth that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, and Lord Ilpalazzo has granted me a really big beam cannon! Of course, I'm not entirely sure how to fire it..."

The annoyed sorceress spread up her incantation, trying to finish the spell while having to listen to the lowest possible amount of Excel – that voice was really starting to bug her.

At least there were no mazoku in this world.

"Dragon slave!"

* * *

The revolutionary organization of ACROSS, once it actually started recruiting, had garnered a surprisingly high amount of followers.

Most of them had just been incinerated.

Most.

Tenchi Masaki, in one of his rare stretches of time on Earth, had grown enamored of Ilpalazzo's rhetoric. Sure, he had found society more annoying than actually corrupt – but at the same time, he couldn't help but feel that there was something deeply and truly wrong when the only reaction he got from having four beautiful extra-terrestrial women(and Sasami) living in his household was "you lucky bastard!" 

And then, when the inevitable follow-up question was asked and he had admitted to his continued virginity, he was quickly denounced as gay and subjected to the homophobia of non-fangirl Japanese society.

They... they just didn't realize. Not any of it, not how Ryoko or Aeka would be hurt, not how deciding one way would hurt the other too much for him to bear...

And the crude "threesome" suggestion didn't work. They _hated_ each other. (When it came to subtext, Tenchi was only slightly less dense than a typical neutron star.)

So naturally, for caring for all of them even with his continued celibacy, he had to be either a wuss or a fag.

This sort of society had to be overthrown. And that – that was why he fought.

An oft-debated subject among otaku was soon resolved, as the wings of the Light Hawk were proved to be slightly more powerful than even Lina's dragon slave.

With a thousand messages of "enemy MECH fainted!", and the Japanese cabinet scrambling back to Tokyo, the victorious march of ACROSS continued on.

* * *

In spite of the general chaos and attempts by countless 'misunderstood' bishounen to take over Tokyo, the mundane aspects of life go on, and to some people, they might as well be everything.

Ryoma continued his serves, realizing that he could strike a megalomaniac Char-wannabe just as easily as he could a cheating opponent, but not particularly interested. There were plenty of other heroes after all, and tennis was his destiny.

Hikaru ignored the battles in his single-minded pursuit of Akira, letting nothing get in the way of Go supremacy – the world didn't matter.

On the other hand, for Yugi, well – sometimes a game _did_ decide the fate of the Earth. (The thought that egyptian gods, however powerful, might not be quite enough to take a city only a few minutes away from Belldandy's adopted hometown, a city teeming with magical girls and kaiju -- it had never occurred to him.) Sometimes, it _was_ more than just a game. And while the holograms may have seemed over the top, the holograms_ were_ important, but not for the duelists – people deserved to see the battle that would decide the fate of humanity.

(Speaking of which, Seto Kaiba had recently sold said hologram technology to the army, which was now operating on the basic ninja principle that, when a bunch of holograms go along with one actual attack, it's a real pain to know which one to dodge. (Admittedly, creating more actual warriors would've been better, but they could only do so much after the recent budget cuts.)

In spite of this effort, however, the only thing that really changed was that the giant Cubone lost all respect it once had for the power of standard military-issue robots.)

There were much sillier, much more over-the-top things – like creating the univerese and metaphorical swordfights mixed in with every Go match. People would mock it often, sure, but... the duels mattered, they _really_ mattered.

Of course, so long as all who sought to use the magic of the cards were dead or not main characters, that didn't really matter. These days, Yugi was having more issues dealing with his other self's attempts to learn to play Go to become worthy of the title king of games, and listening to his endless discussions on life as a gaming-obssesed spirit with Sai of the Fujiwara.

To Saki Kusakabe, however, he might as well have just been some geeky pipsqueak with weird hair. Just like how Ranma Saotome was some muscular, decent-looking guy, but also someone so weird he had an umbrella even when it was barely drizzling outside.

She looked around the rest of the train – sure, it was just a train ride, but this one was _long, _and she had no one to talk to. Kousaka was in at Comiket – no surprises there – but she was beginning to realize that so was everyone else she knew.

Just _what _kind of person had she turned into? She didn't really want to think about it all that much.

As for the others... a young boy with goggles, staring at his cellphone in an obvious hurry. _"He's just a little kid... why in the world is he in such a rush?" _She glanced around some more. An average-looking guy, seemed sweet, but only had eyes for his persocom.Said persocom herself -- the club would've probably been impressed by her specs, if the old line about breast size and processing power was true – but she couldn't care less about her. And lastly, a schoolgirl who gave off seriously creepy vibes amidst her lovelorn face – superstition was stupid, but if someone could use denpa waves and didn't want to talk, she'd keep her distance.

The train seemed oddly deserted otherwise, almost forebodingly so. She had seen it happen in anime a thousand times – just like how a trip to the onsen always had to involve the pervert of the group trying to peek, the undercrowded trains that took too long always had a bit of unwanted excitement.

But monster attacks were _really_ starting to get old. Not that they were ever pleasant; when Vamdemon filled the city with fog, it kept her stranded with some annoying ex for days – but now they were getting trite and overused as well.

Why couldn't she just be a normal girl? Why couldn't she just be with a normal guy?

Like the one a few seats away, that was only a guy when the water was warm. Or the one she hadn't noticed at the other end of the car, a total emotional wreck who didn't look more than a few years older than she was, but had seen far more death than most people ever would.

"Hey, Shinji." Saki spoke, walking over to him.

"Don't compare me to some spineless wimp like Shinji," he began, his voice speaking in a thick Chinese accent, his face displaying not the slightest expression. "The name's Chichiri, y'know?"

* * *

Even as the humongous Cubone rampaged and Ilpalazzo approached in hopes of conquest, life in this confusing, chaotic city went on. 


	2. Chapter 2

Yagami Hikari rushed through the streets of Tokyo, Angewomon flying behind her, determined to stop the giant Cubone from causing any more destruction. Like many residents of the city, she had wanted to visit Tokyo Tower on a date with her love interest (either Daisuke, Miyako, or Takeru – given her current position, she couldn't be sure) on a peaceful day, enjoying the tender sky from the city's highest point and going over memories of the digital world.

It was not meant to be.

The rest of the inter-dimensional travelers club rushed beside her, equally determined to Do Something About It. However, as a blue helicopter with the helpful label of "interpol" descended directly in front of her, it became quite clear that this was fairly unlikely to be the case.

"Are you Yagami Hikari?" A feminine voice asked, as the blue-haired woman stepped out of the helicopter. A few hundred feet down the road a black-haired boy turned his head in search of his wounded rodentine partner, caught a glimpse of the officer, and cryptically said "even in other dimensions, they really _are_ everywhere."

"Yes."

"You're under arrest for the murder by mysterious means of thousands of convicted criminals worldwide, Hikari..." Jenny shouted, then paused her speech as she brandished her trademark handcuffs and attached Hikari to the railing of a nearby staircase, "or should I say Kira?"

"Kira? You're mixing up the vowels... my nickname's Kari. And..." She paused, glancing at Angewomon nervously, then sighing with regret, "I've never killed another human being. I have played a role in the deaths of some digimon, admittedly, but it was necessary to save both worlds."

"Don't play dumb with us, Kira!" An energetic, black-haired female officer stated as she exited the aircraft. "But it's weird, I never really thought that Shinigami would look so much like angels."

"There's a lot we don't understand, Tomo." The blue-haired officer said, pausing as she pointed to the handcuffed light-bringer, turning her eyes to her fellow Interpol agent. "Like, for instance, how a young girl like her was capable of inducing heart attacks worldwide!"

"I told you I didn't do it!"

"Same name as the suspect, strong sense of justice mentioned in profile, and there's a Shinigami tailing you. L didn't give us anything of a physical description, but all things considered, you've gotta be Kira!" Tomo yelled, pointing accusingly at the young girl.

"She's not a Shinigami, she's a digimon."

"Still, you seem quite suspicious. And you saw no problem cleansing the digital world of evil, so why should we believe you aren't the one doing the same to this one? I still say you're Kira." Tomo stated. "Besides, aren't there some weird digital world things you can do to kill people?"

"Actually, there aren't." Hikari admitted, sighing as the Cubone in the distance easily ignored the laser-shots of the small Patlabors, the JSDF's mobile suit squadron annihilated by the wings of the Light Hawk . "I don't think there's a digimon around that can kill someone through heart attacks. Have you tried investigating the prison food for excess trans fats? This 'Kira' story is kinda hard to believe."

"There's definitely a Kira." Motoko Kusanagi said, stepping out of the helicopter. "But on closer inspection, according to L's data, he's male."

"Can we take this girl in anyway? She seems suspicious." Tomo asked, overzealous as ever.

"As cops, we have a duty not to arrest the innocent! And trust me, we need her free." Jenny answered, and the three cops returned to their vehicle, flying away in search of the _real_ Kira. Yagami Hikari, for her part, thought back to Takeru and his hatred, back to Miyako and her pacifism, and began to wonder:

"_If Angewomon had lost her life in that battle, if that power fell into my hands... might I have become Kira?" _

Her thoughts then turned to how this just _kept happening ._ It had only been a year since a girl about Jou's age, maybe a year older, had screamed at her about how digimon were the nineteenth angel, especially hers, so they **really **needed to ramp up production on the EVAs. But she didn't have time for so much thought; this was Earth, not The World, and a plot forgotten on the altar of character development for episodes on end was a luxury she just didn't have.

And thus the unfortunately-named young girl shook her head and resumed her distant chase, determined to save a city that faced mortal peril about once a week. Because no matter how unsafe, endangered, or doomed a town it was, Tokyo was still her home.

* * *

There were many things about the modern era that Haku, a scion of the Age of Ninja, simply did not understand. The fact that he had risen from the dead truly confused him, for instance. The fact that Zabuza had not done the same had caused him a great amount of distress. Yes, he had heard the explanations, but it wasn't enough; how could a wish made on a dragon's testes _raise the dead​_? Sure, he could accept the skyscrapers, the motor vehicles, even the computers: to a ninja, new technology was just a fact of life. They were new aspects of reality, and a skilled shinobi adapted to them, then used them to their's advantage. But death – death itself, the one absolute law of nature, overcome? No wonder ninja had become obsolete; you couldn't keep people dead anymore.

But moreover, it didn't make any _sense_. Yeah, the superstitious types were always about claw of this and powdered horn of that, and he had heard of a couple medic-nin using herbs to ease recovery; not that he had ever faced such kindness from one of them. But dragon testes? _Dragon testes? _He couldn't even imagine anything so absurd!

Also, though this was probably inevitable, he looked out of place. The clothing he had once donned as his ninja outfit, like all other outfits from his time period, had become the sole province of teenage admirers of various historic figures. Moreover, most of their admiration was driven primarily by a powerful sexual attraction, one which shone through even when all they could see of him were two-dimensional etchings on some ancient paper. But he had adapted, at least to this part, though his life seemed hollow and unworthy with Zabuza's absence. All he could still think of doing with himself was to spend the rest of his life looking for someone whose corpse had by now likely already washed across the ocean, someone who was not generally found attractive enough for anyone to wish him back on the testes of a dragon. So Haku would just have to find these seven magic dragon testes himself, though he had a strong suspicion that the whole thing was a hoax to hide the true secret of resurrection.

Still, despite his current state of 'single and mourning,' he had received more than his fair share of attention from both sexes; his anachronistic clothing was as androgynous as ever. And though he was about as loyal to him as they come, Zabuza was likely long dead at this point in time. Besides, some of the guys in Tokyo were just so **hot**!

He had, on this occasion, run into one of them. His name, as the displaced shinobi soon learned, was Sohma Akito. He was a bit older than the ninja, with short hair pointed downward. His body itself was slender, reasonably attractive, Haku surmised, but also dressed in a tight black outfit that seemed so blank as to accentuate the utter beauty of those blue eyes of his half-hidden in transparent bangs.

For a while, Haku watched the man; as a girl from the Hyuuga clan he never met once showed the last boy he had sexually confused, the line between 'ninja' and 'stalker' was actually _very_ thin. And as he watched, like he had done so often on missions for Zabuza in simpler, happier times, the androgynous-looking boy also learned a good deal about his target.

For instance, his position as Sohma clan patriarch had been revealed to the ninja, as had his reason for this sojourn to Tokyo. As Haku watched, she saw the man go look for the prime minister, intent on making numerous puns about how fitting it was to see a snake become a politician. However, the bishounen soon learned that the Prime Minister was out of Tokyo on governmental business. Akito fast attempted to salvage his journey with plane-related jokes, but faltered when it was revealed Ayame's group had in fact taken a bullet train. Upon realizing this, the god (or possessive clan head with a god complex, depending on who you asked) soon found herself realizing where she had gone, realizing that she was stuck in a chaotic land too far from the family estate.

And with it, as she noticed a flash of movement in the corner of his eye, Akito came to another realization: she was being watched. His watcher was, in fairness, a quite attractive girl, with a smooth, cute face and lengthy dark hair that was tied in two locks that shielded her cheeks, then ran down her shoulders until they rested just in front of her ironing board of a chest. She was dressed in immensely out-of-period clothes, ones that gave the impression of either a medieval history geek or a cosplayer. Considering the bizarrely shiny headband that would undoubtedly harm one's ability to engage in the tasks required of ninja, Akito leaned towards the latter.

But in spite of her stalkerly behavior, there was something Akito just found _comforting _about her presence; such beauty wouldn't have looked out of place in the house of Sohma. And come to think of it, given the others, a bishoujo with a kunoichi complex prone to stalking one's love interests would've fit right in. But on the other hand, even God could not change the size of the Zodiac, they had more than enough trouble with the cat already. And while having a stalker around was suitable to the chaos that made life as the Zodiac God _fun, _actually _being _the one stalked would probably get annoying in time. Furthermore, Akito had an ample reverse harem, even considering the recent competition from that worthless Tohru, so she didn't really need to drag in any outsiders...

And despite the oft-said phrase traditionally applied to Bridget, but often to her watcher as well, Akito wasn't gay... not even for Haku. And thus the transvestite deity turned and glanced behind a nearby staircase, catching sight of the shocked watcher, then opened her mouth, prepating to speak. Although she had typically been either loathe to reveal her gender or in denial about the very fact, for some reason or flight of fancy she just couldn't quantify Akito couldn't help but feel that Haku deserved a reason.

So the Sohma leader spoke, to give her the answer she deserved. "By the way, I'm a girl." And then Haku quickly disappeared, barely able to contain his snickering.

* * *

The sun shone somberly on the Cubone's skull-mask, as its brown, furred tail thrashed violently from side to side, shattering windows as it moved. A blonde, large-breasted girl dressed in her blue-skirted, fanservice-bringing school uniform stood on the rooftop of one of Tokyo's many skyscrapers. She then gave an exaggerated speech about evil, protecting the city, natural satellites of the planet, and punishment, while charging up some attack of magical light. The Cubone swung its mighty club as though it were a baseball bat, smashing through the building's steel frame and sending her flying helplessly into Tokyo Bay. (Along with the top few stories of the building in question and a few innocent office workers trapped inside, but none of them were major characters.)

Ishida Yamato clutched his digivice in his hand, glancing at Gabumon, then placed the device it somberly back in his pocket. Regardless of the circumstances, the sight of a digimon crushing an outmatched pokemon in combat on the streets of Tokyo would cause more trouble than it prevented. As a cosmopolitan, interstellar city, Tokyo had acquired a fairly significant population of pokemon and their supporters, and watching their old rival defeat one of their own could only lead to further chaos. (Besides, the city had plenty of other heroes, so one of them could probably take care of it. Still, he'd call cousin Uryuu, just to be safe...)

Seto Kaiba, generally speaking, was among those who lost themselves in their own worlds and didn't really care whether or not Tokyo was conquered. If he could keep playing card games and keep selling products under some evil overlord, he'd be fine; if the iron fists of "evil" (Which was such a trite, simplistic term, one that had even been applied to _him_ after he kidnapped Yugi's grandfather and dueled him into unconsciousness so that he could rip up the old man's favorite card,) stopped the kaiju attacks, he'd be happy. After all, there were two things which really interested Kaiba, or at least only two that he would openly admit to: Card games and profits. And given Tokyo's role as financial headquarters of his company and a major center for tournaments, the constant attacks of Godzilla-wannabees endangered both.

For this reason, he had resurrected the military division of KaibaCORP, and developed expanded ways to use the Duel Disk System's holographic imaging technology together with the tanks and mobile suits of his father's company, in an attempt to keep the city safe from the depredations of giant monsters. (The extortion, erm, 'profit' part would come later.)

"Attack!" The billionaire shouted, and a giant, blue-eyed white dragon roared and shot an electrified cloud straight at the Cubone, which ignored the attack completely.

"Why isn't my distraction system working? Could it be that it isn't fine-tuned enough for kaiju senses?"

"No, it's because Cubone, as a ground-type, is uneffected by electricity." A teenaged boy said, then turned back to the furred, orphaned monster, as a small rat ran up and swung its glowing tail at the Cubone to no effect. "If it _was_, this'd be so much easier."

"You... do realize that's a hologram, right?"

"It won't try to dodge what won't hurt it in the first place." The boy said dismissively.

The Blue-Eyes White Dragon hologram dove towards the Cubone, hoping to distract it for enough time to let someone else get off an actual attack. An army composed mostly of Puchuus marched into view from over the horizon, as Ilpalazzo stood towering over them from yet another of the abundant skyscraper, his light blue cape blowing dramatically in the breeze as he cleared his throat for his grand speech.

"Society is corrupt! For too long, this world has languished between fratricidal strife and a savage, uncaring peace, with human lives and dreams tossed to the wayside or sacrificed on the altar of tradition! But no more!" The Evil Overlord spoke, the light sparkling as he adjusted his miniscule glasses. "For the sake of a world no longer ruled by the idiocy of people so corrupt and ignorant they allow anime of legend to waste over a year on filler or see them canceled outright, this city... no, all Japan is now under the rule of the benevolent ideological organization of ACROSS."

"Sure, you say that!" A mysterious figure shouted from atop Tokyo Tower, standingly calmly as his eyes glared at the overlord from beneath his mask, his voice both defiant and heroic. "But behind your broad, vague criticisms rests nothing more than the words of another megalomaniac, and beneath these bold words is only an attempt to gain followers and try to seize for yourself more power!"

"Do you think I fight merely for myself? No... I fight for the girl so badass she cuts her hair with a kunai, but yet is still brushed aside as useless by our society -- or worse, viewed as a heartless bitch trying to break up the true love of the two rival bishounen! I'm fighting for the hero's slightly ugly ex-rival and close friend who loves kittens and wouldn't hurt an undeserving fly, yet manages to be portrayed as worse then the ones who think nothing of killing thousands! I'm fighting for those who only want their adventures finished, yet instead see them drag on and on forever, though doomed to never again know the glories of a coherent plot and solid characterization..."

At the last quote, the black-cloaked mysterious figure began to hesitate, taking his hand slowly off the sword on his belt; could he _really_ go against such a noble idealist? But no... that was how "Ilpalazzo" had always operated; his statements were broad enough that any budding revolutionary could fall in love with his vision and give his or her life to his cause, but his intentions were nothing more than a power ploy by a man so loathesome he would start his rule by massacring manga-ka on accusations of degenerancy!

"But the people who simply wish to go about their lives in peace, even the ones you claim to fight for, will only suffer more in the bloodshed of your revolution!" He shouted, his normally kind blue eyes now purple and ablaze with determination.

"_But isn't this **Tokyo**? By this point, wouldn't anyone who wanted to go about their lives in peace without a monster attack or having to save the world have already left?"_ Miaka absentmindedly wondered as she walked through the street hand-in-hand with Tamahome, casting a brief glance upward at the commotion before turning back to her boyfriend, ignoring the chaos around her: saving one world was painful enough for a lifetime.

The giant cubone continued its approach to Tokyo Tower, the Puchuu standing down as they let it march, reasoning that anything to destroy the swordsman's platform could only help their cause. A determined Ash shouted his orders of "Bulbasaur, Solarbeam! Squirtle, Hydro Pump!" to his pokemon, wishing he could do more, but his determined, heroic effort to save the city seemed able to only manifest in a small(if loud) chunk of tactical advice.

Like they really couldn't figure out which attacks to use on their own by now. Bulbasaur and Squirtle had been on his squad for years, and after so many battles they knew what to use when. The list of type advantages, what attacks worked against what foes, sure, he had memorized it. But so had every other serious pokemon trainer, although a couple newbies slipped up now and then. No, his importance was before the battles – when he stood by his pokemon, training them to grow stronger and stronger, drawing out their full power, when he decided which ones to use in each fight.

Bulbasaur watched the Cubone as it took in sunlight, a small comfort of familiarity coming over it despite their battle; it was nice to see a familiar figure in such a chaotic land, even if that figure was a rival one was about to attack with Solarbeam. Squirtle pushed its body back into its thick, red shell, then propelled himself upwards by the sheer force of his water power, spinning as eight hydraulic turrents shot out of him, one in each direction. The water fast spewed in all directions, but owing to its sheer size, it was the orphaned pokemon he was fighting that got most of the drenching.

It didn't matter. Because for all the damage Bulbasaur and Squirtle did, it wasn't enough to make their opponent turn around and _notice_ their foe, for on the other side of the monster's gigantic, furred tree trunks of legs, a determined and fairly powerful cadre of Tokyo residents had decided to make their stand.

Ilpalazzo and the masked swordsman paused their battle of words, as it stood to watch , searching for weaknesses on both sides, too concerned by the Cubone's charge to continue their battle: besides, important fights weren't supposed to happen simultaneously, as that was _way_ too annoying for the onlookers.

And there had to be onlookers. Sure, a Final Battle could occasionally leave them knocked out after previous, feeble attempts, or be fought at a speed rendering the fight invisible, or with such demonic energy filling the air that it was dangerous to watch or killed all the bystanders. And then there were the times when the planet was about to blow up, or the villain had done such a superb job that everyone else was dead, or the final battle was fought between armies and not just individuals and it'd take a moron to watch it unarmed. But none of _those_ battles happened in Tokyo, where even the hero's friends often stood by watching.

This time, there were quite a few brave souls who would risk everything for the defense of their hometown and planet, though all of them were small enough that Cubone could hypothetically step on them. Still, with the sheer volume of opposition, it'd have to take a couple stomps.

Or an earthquake. Tokyo had a lot of earthquakes from nature and the supernatural alone, and for a ground-type facing off against numerous foes, they were quite useful for the general task of scattering and knocking out the opposition. The Cubone raised its leg, then brought it furiously on the ground below, and the earth shook, with even the base of the rebuilt Tokyo Tower vibrating at such a speed as to disturbe all those in it, on it, or simply in a general position to be crushed if it fell.

As the ground quaked, the small Puchuu were scattered, firing off their bazookas towards the Cubone as they were sent wildly into the air. However, this disruption in their aim caused the blasts to misfire wildly, with explosions from the chaotic misfires reported as far away as Nerima.

* * *

Had Akane Tendou desired a peaceful, romantic life, she had often reasoned, she would have already moved out of Tokyo. Admittedly, the family she had probably didn't help the cause of her tranquility either: she sure wouldn't want to face Soun's wrath about 'family honor' and whatnot if she tried to move somewhere peaceful. And in a strange way, despite getting frequently abducted, generally fought over, and having to deal with Kuno, at least her life was, well, _exciting._

And Ryoga going away on government work and Ranma dsappearing in anger after a recent fight did not change the fact of this excitement. Still, times were relatively peaceful now, and she had grown tired of _Ranma_ being the only one with a reasonable love polygon.

Admittedly, contrary to the wishes of Shampoo, Ukyo, Ranma-chan, and even Shizuru or Usagi at times, Akane was fully and completely heterosexual. There had been times when dating Ranma when she was grossed out and called him a pervert for a simple kiss after a bit of cold water, after all. But given the demographics of Nerima, which was very much a harem region, this made finding a new suitor unpleasantly difficult. (As for going into the rest of Tokyo, city-disrupting battles were common, and she **really** didn't want someone who lived too far away to save her during a crisis.)

So, after revealing certain details of what Kagome was actually doing amidst her frequent claims of sickness, the archetypical _tsundere_ girl had managed go out on something of a date with a cute, polite high-school boy named Hojo, which she was currently in the process of enjoying. They were currently waiting at a pleasant old restaurant known as the Akabeko, where service wasn't at the breakneck speed of a McDonalds, but despite its current use as a place for at least some couples to hang out, it wasn't the sort where one would have to dress in uncharacteristic clothing to do so or wait hours for a meal.

Akane glanced dreamily at Hojo, figuring this was, had she wanted peace, probably the perfect relationship. He didn't seem like it, but between a solid kindness, decent looks, and lack of the severe emotional problems so prevalent in bishounen, Hojo was actually quite a catch; it'd be nice to have a guy who'd sooner _tend_ to her wounds than inflict them.

"Do you need anything, Akane-dono?" Hojo asked, ill-accustomed to going so long without preparing a medical remedy for his love interest, among other things.

The third Tendou child clenched her first, prepared to make some remark about being boyfriend and girlfriend now ('cause really, he _was_ nicer than the other two, and life in Tokyo wouldn't get dull no matter who she dated – so she might as well make it official) and not using -dono before a punch in the forehead, but just as quickly changed her reaction, petting the younger boy on the head as her cheeks turned red and she politely declined his request.

A few feet away, an explosion then ripped through the wall of the Akabeko. The short-haired tomboy leaped out of her seat and across the table, tackling Hojo out of the way as a large chunks the pristine, traditional wood of the restaurant's roof smashed down on the chair that so recently served as Hojo's seat, and slammed the table where long ago, a group of annoying and thuggish "democracy" activists were beaten up by Himura Kenshin, a little-known assassin and swordsman who had fought on the imperial side during the Boshin War. (Akane and Hojo's table, located behind the beforementioned, escaped unscathed... though the half-eaten meals had flown across the restaurant and shattered against the far wall, causing a good deal of annoyance and increased debris.)

Luckily for Hojo, the third heir of the anything-goes school of martial arts could move _very_ quickly when she needed to. Of course, Akane had certainly seemed strong enough to smash _through_ the walls in question. He had sure seen enough of her punches shatter stronger materials than that when using a human proxy, come to think of it, typically Saotome-san or Tatewaki-san. And after a quick flash of blue and a slightly painful tackle, he ended up on the floor of the aisle, unharmed by the roof, his short-haired date laying protectively atop him as another explosion hit and yet more debris fell.

Kagome's former modern-day love interest blushed a deep red as the ample mounds which at times seemed the sole proof of Akane's feminity squished against his chest. And soon Hojo had closed his eyes, too wrapped up in something between love and a bad nosebleed to pay all that much attention the chaos around him: around here, this was usually how one coped.

"Who are you, and why the hell are you bombing us?!" An eggshell roughly the size of a human child shouted, his words wholly ignored by the Rumic couple on the floor as the sound carried out the obliterated hole that had once been a wall of the Akabeko. "Don't think you can get away with this without paying!"

"Ah think y'all should leave 'em be." The restaurant owner answered in her thick kansai accent, sighing. "I reckon we'll never get a single yen from them for this, anyway. It's just part of the cost doing business in Tokyo."

* * *

Though it _did_ possess more than enough explosions for three fights, the fact that there were still more than two characters standing meant that the 9001st Battle of Tokyo Tower was still far from finished. The Cubone's earthquake had done a solid job of clearing away the minor characters, sure, and had even defeated Satoshi and knocked out almost the entirety of the Glorious Popular Revolutionary army of ACROSS.

But two of the major fighters had the street smarts, common sense, or luck to be standing on the balconies of relatively new (and therefore earthquake-proof) buildings constructed since the _last_ bit of chaos, so along with the Cubone, Ilpalazzo and a masked swordsman clad in the dark robes of a shinigami also stood unfazed, neither of them yet defeated as the post-explosion fog began to clear away.

And the masked swordsman, despite the necessity of defeating the megalomaniac before him and risks involved in losing the physical high ground (The moral high ground being his simply by not being an evil overlord) or being attacked from behind, saw an even greater need at hand: the Cubone in front of him was too big, too powerful, and too dangerous to the city.

The swordsman glanced at the Cubone's mask, every chipped edge of its bony skull clear, visible, and even _creepy_; he was used to human opponents. Looking down its body, the fur was almost as scary: he got the feeling it was, while barely noticable on the pokemon itself, large enough to engulf him completely, and he _couldn't_ look through to any weak spots. But plenty of rodents had bad eyesight, especially with the fog, and maybe a slow-moving pokemon like this wouldn't be able to thrust quickly enough to give a fatal headbutt.

Well, he had the agility, anyway. And it was his only real chance. Ilpalazzo's foe leapt from the building, almost flying through the air as he approached his giant-pokemon opponent, the bluish-gray steel of his sword soon unsheathed as he spun quickly towards his foe.

"Hiten Misturugi Style – Ryu Kan Sen Tsumuji!"

* * *

Even with only two people at the scene of combat left in fighting condition, battles on which the fate of Tokyo rested had a certain way of dragging on. 


	3. Chapter 3

Tokyo, despite the vast, well-lit skyline and population density that strike many visitors with the impression of pure, unencumbered modernity, is in fact a fairly ancient city. It had been founded as a small town long ago, in the seventh century, but ignored by the outer world for most of its life, until the construction of Edo castle in 1457. But after that date, either as a warlord's base, effective capital, or aactual capital, it has bore witness to centuries of Japanese politics, and consequently acquired a rich and long-running history. Furthermore, given both its age and size, it has of course seen countless born within its grounds, many travellers passing through the way, an enormity of lives being simply _lived. _But with this population size, given the failure of humans to achieve immortality in any real numbers and relative lack of youkai within the twenty-two wards, must also come a great amount of death.

It is this last fact which accounts for the many spirits which haunt its buildings and skies, along with those who protectively watch over Tokyo to this very day. The metropolis therefore possesses a rich afterlife for those who have chosen to spend their post-mortal existence floating in the Tokyo skies, one where a ghost can always find a place to go in order to avoid the monotony of the afterlife, a city where Kenshin Himura's ghost debates philosophy and the necessity of war with that of Sango, while Kuwabara pitifully begs him to pass on the secrets of Hiten Mitsurugi.

Given its immense population and frequent monster attacks, moreover, it is a city where the ranks of the spirit world grow by leaps and bounds. Because of this immense workload, Tokyo is in the unique position of being served by multiple shinigami.

Botan had got along fairly well with her previous partner-in-reaping; while she couldn't help but feel Rukia was a bit violent when it came to handling the spirit world, her co-worker was still a girl of about her age and position... and one she had spent long hours with, either swapping stories of how they trained certain mortals to use their spirit energy, or just arguing over whether Kuwabara or Ichigo was better with their sword. (And blushing heavily while looking away whenever one of them brought up the double meaning of 'sword', for that matter.) Better yet, Rukia had an _excellent_ work ethic, recently even beginning to drag Ichigo into her efforts, so Botan's job had mostly been relegated to the fairly easy task of just ferrying around lost souls.

This is why she was **immensely** annoyed when Rukia Kuchiki was arrested on the charge of losing her Shinigami spirit and transferring her powers to a human. Of course, this was hardly new to Tokyo spirits (She herself had fraternized plenty with Yusuke-tachi) and this particular arrest did indeed stink of corruption... but regardless of reasons, it still meant that her longtime comrade would need to be replaced.

Unfortunately, Rukia was replaced by a scary-looking, black-winged, near-sociopathic demon that not only fit all the annoying stereotypes which were so ubiquitous that many spirits, upon their lives ending, disbelieved Botan's own shinigami status. To make matters worse, in sharp contrast to his predecessor's enthusiasm, Ryuk was only slightly less lazy than the typical Snorlax. And it certainly didn't help her job's reputation that he was the very Shinigami involved in the Kira incident, which had been absolutely** awful** for the public image of Death Gods.

And this decline of shinigami image was something which she herself had been made to endure on numerous occasions -- souls awaiting the afterlife frequently brought it up, and it certainly didn't make her job any easier. She'd really be saved a lot of time if the departed would simply follow her across the Sanzu without making any cracks about how a blue-haired teenage girl in a pink kimonos couldn't possibly be a shinigami or trying to "avenge" lost loved ones by killing her.

The deceptively cute shinigami floated swiftly on her oar towards her house in the soul society(Or "spirit world" depending on one's preferred nomenclature) a place which was not quite actually _in_ Tokyo, but she could get there easily enough through the portal in her home. Sending her platform back to hammerspace, she agilely floated down to the front steps, giving her voicemail a check before she went back to work.

There wasn't much: there seldom was. The only message was from Koenma, stating that Rukia had received her ninth stay of execution, along with another request for help regaining the throne of the afterlife from the Seireitei aristocracy and their puppet king. Botan sympathized with him and would certainly have preferred him in power, but she couldn't even get Yusuke or Kurama to fight for his sake, so it couldn't be helped.

And thus, leaving Koenma without so much as a response, Botan casually walked through the portal, re-summoned her oar, and in one of those inexplicably common coincidences of useful timing, caught sight of Ryuk floating lazily above a kaiju-ruined district of Tokyo.

The female shinigami casually pulled an apple from hammerspace with one hand, her other hand's finger pointing with annoyance to her comrade. "People are dying, and their souls need passage! Just _what _are you waiting for?"

"There's no point. We brought all those souls to the afterlife during the Buu incident, and all that happened was that they got wished back – and it seems lke everyone who dies gets reincarnated these days anyway. Until the day comes that people die when they are killed and _stay_ dead, it's just not worth the effort."

"Listen, Ryuk. Regardless of what you told Kir-- hey, wait, why _did_ you lie to Kira about the afterlife?" Botan asked, her face contorted into a look of quizzical confusion.

"I wasn't lying. There's no heaven or hell." Light's former partner answered, his voice nonchalant and emotionless – not _distant_, just not having any particular quality to it, not even his typical creepy, high-pitched town.

"Yeah, but its clear what you were trying to impart to him." Botan shot back. "And you _did_ omit the spirit world, which mislead the heck out of him."

The demon shrugged. "It's clear by now that he would've killed regardless, but I thought it would be more interesting if he thought that death meant oblivion of the soul. If there's an afterlife, its not half as fun to lose the death note."

"I know you prefer the killing side of our job, but there's enough death in Tokyo already. Here." Botan said, sighing and tossing him an apple as she surpressed the powerful urge to whack him repeatedly over the head with her paddle. "There's more if you help me."

"You drive a cruel bargain." Ryuk grumbled, stretching his wings and flying with his sempai towards the battlefield, prepared to guide the newly-disembodied souls to eternity

* * *

The masked man in the black robes of a certain order of shinigami leapt from the building, almost flying through the air as he approached his giant-pokemon opponent, the bluish-gray steel of his sword soon unsheathed as he spun quickly towards his foe. 

"Hiten Misturugi Style – Ryu Kan Sen Tsumuji!"

As the blow connected with the Cubone's neck and the giant plunged to the ground, Ilpalazzo let out a powerful, roaring scream of "You!" the sort that only happened at plot-defining moments; a scream which pierced through the chaotic air. As he screamed, the revolutionary recoiled in slight horror -- _slight_, because the full force of this realization would send him plunging to his certain death.

"_But... it's impossible. How, after all this time, can Kenshin Himura still be alive?!"_

"To think that even after this one's spent sixty years dead, you still go around trying to seize power with all that talk of revolution... I must admit I had my suspicions, but it really struck me as too odd to be anything but a coincidence, that it did."

"Hold it." The silver-haired revolutionary said, sending a small, snake-shaped burst of magical energy towards the swordsman's mask from his skyscraper location, while the Cubone's unconscious body fell across the road, tying up traffic and destroying a few more buildings in its wake. The man gracefully floated down from the skyscraper on his cape, if only because his foe was simply too low to the ground to hit, and spoke. "Cryptic allusions are nice and all, but we have a _lot_ to go over here... so don't you think you owe the bystanders a flashback?"

* * *

_A windswept rain fell upon the park as the sky turned half-pink, the soaked cherry blossoms floating in a way that, amidst the weather, only seemed more beautiful. A battle-hardened, smooth-faced bishounen of a swordsman, about seventeen years of age glanced out from his house, his calm demeanor the only defense he could find himself from the scent of the blood once again filling the air with the opening sounds of the Boshin War._

"Not every past has cherry blossoms, and the only Sakura you ever knew was seven years dead at the time. Be serious here, Kenshin – the people laying dead on this battlefield deserve it."

"Oro? Y-you were the one who killed them!" The man answered, then suddenly narrowed his eyes, turning far more serious. "Besides, I believe you have a good deal that you should be explaining to the people of this city and nation, Kagato. Though I must admit I'm quite impressed by this transformation of yours, that I am... even managing to get the Crown Prince of Jurai to fight for you."

"You know the rules. Hero gets the flashback first, villain only as they die." 'Ilpalazzo' responded, his hair's prettiness undiminished by the usage of his real name.

"So you admit you're the villain?" Kenshin answered, his presence in his current body still unexplained as he lunged for his foe, only to find his sakabatou quickly parried by a green laser sword which beared a suspicious resemblance to a lightsaber. (Of course, if it _was_ a lightsaber, it would've meant quite clearly that he was actually on the side of good, raising the need for a flashback even more.)

"Ilpalazzo-sama, does this mean Excel will finally get to see your mysterious past?" A hyperactive, oddly-dressed blond stated, rushing through her words, apparently recovering from the blast quickly because of her immense energy.

"It's fairly hard to get a revolution going as the standard-bearer for evil. I admit nothing!" 'Ilpalazzo' answered, wondering whether to shoot Excel for her annoying hyperactivity or kiss her for her loyalty – minions like_this_ werew certainly hard to find.

"No, no. I'll still let Kenshin go first... suffice it to say that the 'martian princess' thing was a cover for Hyatt's role with the Galaxy Police and leave my life story at that."

Himura Kenshin, in a yet-unexplained body and wearing the robes of a certain order of shinigami, nodded, then sat cross-legged on the pavement of the road so recently wounded by the weight of a giant pokemon, closed his eyes, and opened his sheath just enough that Kagato could see the steel glisten as the old rurouni began to recount the relevant portions of his backstory.

* * *

"_It was 1894, and I was getting on in my years, but the bloodshed I had willed my life to preventing was only days away from happening yet again, this time across the sea. Furthermore, to my great dismay, this orgy of violence was being prepared by the very men whom I had once considered comrades in the Ishin Shishi, that I had. And to put this in context, it should be noted that this was also the opening of a horrible cycle of violence which would someday set us down the path to this city's firebombing and the devastation unparalleled even by the worst of the monster attacks and natural disasters we have endured since then._

_Seizing upon a diplomatic crisis in Korea, as your history books will surely mention, Yamagata and his allies in the Diet dragged Japan into war. They will say nothing of how, in doing so, the commander of the Japanese forces broke a promise to an old friend from the revolution. They will also say nothing of how, in the fateful days leading up to the war, I reluctantly led a small, furious group. This composed primarily of pacifists and old friends from the fight against Shishio, among them a sekihoutai veteran fresh with radicalism after his travels through America, attempted a midnight coup d'etat with the backing of the emperor in the days leading up to the first Sino-Japanese War._

_We only had a few fighters, but it was late, and they were most skillful, that they were. Sir Yosho, Sir Sanosuke, Sir Aoshi, and even Miss Kaoru were among us, and the espionage provided by the remnants of the Oniwaban-shu gave us exactly the information needed to know when to save control – and through Sir Tsukioka, we had both a hefty supply of bombs and a solid ally in the media."_

"So many skilled fighters, how were you beaten?" Iori asked, grateful for the strength of Ankylomon's hide – without it, the earthquake would've knocked him out like it had so many others. Hearing this comment, with a gentle nod of response, Kenshin Himura closed his eyes, and returned to his reminiscence.

"_If it were only the warmongering traitors of the revolution, we would indeed have succeeded. But the British government had seen the strength of the Yamagata regime, and was courting them as an ally in east asia."_

"So the Meiji had guns?" Iori asked, slightly confused.

"Don't associate our honored emperor's name with those murderers!" Kenshin shouted, eyes narrowed and purple with anger.

"B-but, umm... everything I've learned in histo--"

"History is only what is written down!" Kagato shouted, displaying a rare, semi-uncharacteristic touch of helpfulness. "There's so much about this world's corrupt, fratricidal past that it won't mention, such as how the intervention of a group of youkai daimyo under Sesshomaru turned the Onin War from a succession struggle to the anarchy of the Sengoku Jidai! And it never explains Japan's insanity in the second world war... Let him finish, and all will become clear!"

"_The imperialists didn't just have guns, Lord Iori." _Kenshin began, resuming his flashback. _"If British weaponry was all that they had to their advantage, the world might even have been spared their reign of militarist violence. But for all the spying of Miss Misao, we had no idea that the imperialists had also been loaned the recently-captured secret weapon of the mysterious 'Hellsing' organization._

"Secret weapon?" The holder of curiosity and sincerity asked, listening intently.

"_Now, none of us really knew a thing about England, back then. The Oniwabanshu had been sent to America as spies for a time, and as they found nothing but humans and animals, we had therefore assumed that youkai and other such creatures only existed in Japan: not a single person among us had ever so much as heard the word 'vampire." _Kenshin Himura paused, waiting for the impact of the word to sink in, as the various bystanders still standing, the Vamdemon attack only five years past, tried in vain to wrap their heads around a time when the very idea of a time when vampires were completely unheard of in Tokyo.

"_Guns were one thing – I had the speed to fight them, so long as we were in close quarters, and Sir Yosho's blade could deflect bullets. It would be ugly, brutal, and I'd lose a lot of friends, but if that was what it took to stop yet another war, I was prepared to make that sacrifice." _Hiding the tear that ran down his scarred cheek has he reminisced, the warrior sighed. _"But Alucard... In this new era of guns, I suppose Alucard would be the person truly worthy of the title of strongest. Admittedly, his gun fired far more quickly than all but one that I had seen before in my life, and that one was mounted and possessed by an owner without the slightest concept of aim – which merely makes it even more impressive that for all the shots he fired, not a single one missed._

_Sano was the first to fall, ten bullets penetrating those ribs already wounded by years of combat, and then, as his bones were pulverized, a single fatal strike to the head. The rest of us fought on, trying to ignore the loss of a fighter who was to so many of us a dear friend, killing in the hopes of saving so many more lives, and swallowing our revulsion, consciences, and revolutionary memories, we even managed to slay all of the guards save for Alucard._

_And even with him, I did get an attack in, that I did. My eyes yellow with the Battousai's hatred, I turned around my sakabatou and pierced his neck with a stab that should indeed have been fatal. However, as I was not to learn for many more years, a thousand more stabs to the neck would still not have been enough to slay him – but blinded by renewed bloodlust, I could not even comprehend his immortality. With these thoughts strong in my mind, I leaped into the air, bringing his sword down for a Ryutsuisen, but the blow did nothing. All I could do was to watch as my comrades fell around me. And then, this one heard another gunshot, and fell from battle as the blood covered my eyes."_

_When I next woke, it was in a prison, that it was. I later learned that, owing to his respect for my services during the revolution, Yamagata had personally intervened to spare my life, although for trying to overthrow the government, I understandably recieved a term of life imprisonment."_

"Truly, this is a fairly interesting past, but I'm really not seeing where Lord Ilpalazzo fits into this flashback." Excel stated, somewhat annoyed, but with a strange mixture of awe, respect, and fear of her master preventing her from using a comedically oversized weapon to whack Kenshin for his foolishness. Unheeding her question, the swordsman continued.

"_For the rest of my life, I would only spend two more years outside of a jail cell – those years were both during the occupation, that they were. As a prisoner, perhaps owing to my heroic past, my treatment was humane, and I received ample news of the outside world... but just the same, I was a prisoner, and the news was seldom good." _

_On the side of peace, there were only two survivors, that there were. Yosho had made it out alive, and was apparently living under an assumed name in the countryside – Sir Katushito Masaki, I believe. But the rest of my comrades had fallen. The Meiji emperor was placed under house arrest for the remainder of his life, and although some of the purer voices within the imperialist government moved the country towards democracy, the pacifist voices in the Diet were not enough to stop the cycle of wars, and even the elected government was soon subsumed by the military's murderous quest for power in the name of the Japanese nation._

_Unable to do a thing to stop this horror, I sat powerless to stop the as the restoration government dragged the nation into war after war, while proving worse than the shogunate at home. In a bitter, ironic move that I must assume was a nod to my services, in time this government passed the 'peace preservation' law, which only ensured to continue the stability of a warmongering government that would make Shishio proud._

_Still, there were politicians who came to speak to me. Their arguments were moderate, they went along with the wartime directives, that they did – but through great effort, I did manage to convince some of them of what should have been obvious, that the righteousness even the most just war could have paled in comparision to the lack of suffering seen in peace._

_In time, this government was beaten, and in the year 1945 I saw my freedom once again.The American occupation had freed all political prisoners of the prior regime, that they had, and I was truly grateful simply to view the skies after so many years, even though they were greyed with smoke and my eyes had decayed gravely over my ninety-five years of life. Ninety-five... I had aged greatly, and even the power of the Hiten Mitsurugi style could only delay the inevitable for so long._

_Thankfully, the Americans had appointed as Prime Minister a former acquaintance of mine by the name of Sir Kijuurou Shidehara, a former diplomat and foreign minister who, many decades ago, I had convinced of the viciousness of war. This man had taken this reality to heart, and many years later, asked me for a solution. To this end, I wrote him up a proposal, that I did: a few sentences which, with the memories of destruction strong and the victims of our aggression in power, I felt could finally be written into the central documents of this land._

_It took about another year for all the details to be ironed out, but when that day finally came... The media was awash with reports of the new constitution, and as I read through a copy in the newspaper, my eyes scanned down towards article nine, and I died with tearful hope in my eyes. But with Tokyo laying in ruins and so much of the world murdered in the years of war, it was a faint hope indeed – and too make matters worse, even until the moment of my death, I had not even realized Kagato's role._

_My spirit had hoped to depart to the afterlife, but deep down, I knew my sins could not be atoned for. So fom Gojira to Vamdemon and Cubone, I watched over Tokyo, hoping uselessly, powerlessly that the city could at last see peace."_

"That still doesn't have anything to do with Lord Ilpalazzo!" Excel shouted, confused. "Sure, it was an interesting flashback, but that was completely off-topic! Excel does not approve of your distraction from the subject of our glorious leader's past!"

"But this was no distraction, Excel. It my secret surveillance technology had been placed on Yosho's body, letting us know of all this man's movements. And it was I who revived Alucard from his untimely death, bargained his spirit into servitude, and convinced the Holy Britannian King of the time to send him to Japan!" " Kagato replied, eyes rife with megalomaniacal _evil_ as he adjusted his glasses and held back his laugh. "Furthermore, I was the one whose militarist puppets in the Diet pushed Japan into Manchuria and the Second World War in the first place!"

"But why, Ilpalazzo? Why would you do such a horrible thing?!" The agent asked, falling tearfully to her knees.

"You see, Excel, I needed Yosho's power. I could get everything I needed from his corpse, but someone would have to kill him first. Originally, I tried to get Japan to do the firebombing itself overreacting to resistance movements, but when that failed..." He paused, not a single element of conscience or sorrow appearing on his face "I just had to make sure another country would do it for me."

"In other words, a man so malevolent he dragged a whole nation into war in the hope that the heir to Jurai would become a civilian casualty! And it didn't even work." Kenshin shot back, only the honor of his oath preventing him from reverting to the battousai.

"Quiet, you! Now die!" Kagato lunged at Himura with his wholly non-derivative, original laser sword which in no way came from a galaxy far, far away, only to see it quickly parried by a... zanbatou?

"The flashback has not finished yet, that it hasn't. Or do you not want anyone to know just how this one came to this body?"

"Fine, fine. Go on."

"Wait... the rest isn't interesting, that it's not. A local shinigami by the name of Ichigo Kurosaki saw the carnage, saw his siblings near death from Cubone, and called out to the spirit world in a desperate plea for help. And then I answered, and there's nothing more to be said."

Hearing this, Kagato paused briefly as the sun set beautifully upon the plain of Kanto, its only witness in the city limits a slight bit of red creeping through the smoke-filled Tokyo sky. An orange-haired, fairly attractive female kitsune suddenly

descended from the clouds, the two fighters glared at each other with an immense hatred too powerful to be properly described while gripping the handles of their swords with full readiness to kill, and the fox-girl spoke into her microphone. "As is traditional, this final battle will be a no-holds-barred, anarchic fight to the finish, and as such, I am only here in my capacity as announcer. Let the battle begin!"

Hearing Koto's signal, the two swordsmen lunged at one another, then rushed past with breakneck speed as the swords collided, making a bizarre sound somewheres between a clang and a buzz. Kneeling and facing the opposite way, they stood for a split-second, and then...

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No one fell to the ground, admitting defeat, nor did anyone surrender. Himura glanced at his sakabatou and Kagato at his wholly non-derivative laser sword, but neither were even close to shattering. The two stood there, remaining in the positions in which they landed, unable to shake the feeling that the outcome of their clash of swords was plain and simply _wrong_.

On the other side of Tokyo, sparked by deeply-held worries of love and hot, human/computer reset button action, a surprisingly powerful, semi-legendary personal computer went haywire, causing a chaos which instantly shut down the lights, water pipes, and other key infrastructure elements of the city. Iori Hida held aloft his digivice and sped off in the distance, running on a desperate search for an internet-capable computer as the water burst from the ground, determined to stop the rampaging MarineAngemon this problem would undoubtedly manifest as in the digital world. Kenshin and Kagato, assuming that this intereference was the reason their final battle had not ended with one of them falling from a delayed wound seconds after their epic clash of swords, put their hostilities aside for the moment. For now, they would find the source of this newfound chaos.

* * *

Fourteen minutes into the ninth episode of Madarame's Kujibiki Unbalance marathon, to the otaku's immense annoyance, the screen of his television suddenly went black. It was at quite an annoying moment, to boot... while the showdown between Tokino and Ritsuko was not particularly anticipated, it was certainly something to watch.

In fact, watching it was precisely what he wanted to be doing, but in the chaos of the city, even this attempt at peaceful, lonely otakudom had become impossible. And much as he wanted to remember the halycon days of schoolgirls in seifuku, after-school clubs, general fanservice, and mushrooms, he could not turn his back on the city forever.

He didn't **mind** Tokyo, generally speaking: It was just that a life lived in Kyoto or Sapporo wouldn't disrupt his efforts to watch anime in peace with an uninterrupted power supply. However, even considering this, the fact of Akihabara's existence alone put Tokyo above any other city in the world, as far as Madarame was concerned, and living his life in the city of Comiket(and saving on travel money to . And there was one thing that was clear: No matter how badly he wanted to live the life of a fanboy, and never fight again, it didn't matter. Not only would his power supply not be restored until the city was saved, but Tokyo was in danger -- and this was a city_ worth_ protecting.

(And if nothing else would sway him, major battles had nude transformation scenes on a fairly regular basis, and villains occasionally used swords or knives which ripped the heroine's clothes. Besides, he _did_ still have that Gundam stuffed in his closet – and while he may have been was a bit out of practice, it wasn't like he had forgotten how to fight.)

Keeping this in mind, the longtime fanboy climbed into his mech's cockpit, trying to ignore that annoying voice in the back of his head which saw fit to remind him how Ohno and Ogiue would react to the term 'cockpit,' especially when Heero and Duo were involved, and returning at long last to the field of combat for the sake of humanity.

If only he could've done it in a Zaku.

* * *

After a tiring run, Kenshin Himura glanced around the scene of chaos, surveying his surroundings. His rival – no, his enemy: _rival_ was too nice a term, one better suited for two who respected each other and had a strong current of underlying sexual tension – was standing there as well, gazing upward in... confusion, was it? No, he was watching, waiting respectfully for events to unfold.

A persocom in the shape of a teenage girl floated a few feet above the ground, held in her position by what must have been thousands of wires emanating from her ears and hooked intohundreds, if not thousands of ports -- most on in outlets a foot above the road or even beneath it, but quite a few extending to the high-rise buildings which flanked and towered above the road, and more still flying wildly, unconnected to anything. Standing on the pavement below the girl, a college-age, boy yelled words of love to the computer, tears in his eyes as he confessed.

What most puzzled Kenshin was the boy's distinct appearance of homosexuality, owing to his CLAMPish looks, combined with this confession. but then again, from what he understood of it, love seldom worked in a sensible way, and people were often not what they seem. The two conversed some more – a bit here about the "person just for me", a bit there about the computer's capabilities for sexual intercourse, and as the wires unplugged and retracted back into the girl's ears, the swordsman concluded that this boy, while straight, still possessed... odd romantic tendencies. (Then again, looking as he did, this should not have been a suprise.)

Off in the distance, he heard a loud, clanking noise, a sound which moved closer with each 'clang' as the sillouhette of a giant robot came into view. As the Gundam arrived on the scene, the two lovers collapsed into a telepathic flashback, their love seeming at last complete.

"A Gundam, and true love... Good is triumphing, that it is."

"You think that 'good'? Truly, even the heroes have seen their moral compasses degenerate in this immoral, corrupt society." Kagato said, adjusting the glasses he wore so often in his 'Ilpalazzo' guise.

"I presume you will elaborate."

"The love you speak of is nothing more than the degenerate, perverted relationship of a geek and his computer, the kind which even today is destroying the bonds of **real** love on which humanity was founded. And the mobile suit, well... what was the Earth Federation but an oligarchic band of imperialists willing to do anything to maintain its domination of the space colonies?"

"The Zeon were warmongers! The Zabi clan lorded over its people with an iron fist, uncaring of how many lives on both sides they destroyed for their dream of independence!"

"You really think that? Then again, I suppose a right-wing paramilitary really _would_ have such warped ideas about what constitutes 'good' or 'evil'."

"R-right wing paramilitary?" Kenshin asked incredulously eyes spiraling with the confusion of a dozen 'oro's.

"It's true, isn't it? Think about it – all you ever fought for in your life was the stability of the imperialist regime!" Kagato roared, equal parts accusing and maniacal "And don't give me any of that about Shishio being worse: that doesn't explain Sanosuke and Tsukioka or beating up democracy activists at the Akabeko!"

"Regardless of their political leanings, their actions were simply harassing people in the name of liberty or sparking another civil war! Do you really think that if the Sekihoutai _did_ blow up Tokyo, Japan would have turned into a land of freedom?"

"Ah, so a paramilitary with reformist justifications."

"I've been more than willing to attack corrupt governmental officials, that I have. But given the choice between the government and the violent chaos of another Bakumatsu, with no good end in sight..."

"You fool! Attacking corruption of a few while ignoring corruption of society... does nothing good for the world!" Kagato yelled, turning on his green laser-sword as he charged. Kenshin Himura paused, pondering his enemy's statement, wondering if he had a point. Until that fateful day in the 1890s, what _had_ he been but just another paramilitary, slightly more high-minded and non-violent than the others? And all this was what he called "atonement" -- his spirit didn't deserve to go on, and were he in his own body, he would not even have considered dodging.

But as things were, he was borrowing Kurosaki Ichigo's, and it would be quite rude of him to return this borrowed item in less-than-livable shape. So maybe if he just left it behind, Kagato would leave his vessel be, and he would never have to kill again.

For a split-second during his extraterrestrial enemy's charge, he was seriously thinking about it. However, at the exact moment that Kagato slipped on a banana peel, (Which, incidentally, had been the very peel that had inadvertantly led to Fujioka Haruhi's first kiss, and arrived in its current location only after a curiously long journey involving kaiju-interrupted garbage disposal and getting caught in a strong gust of wind summoned up to make a Clow Card guardian by the name of Yue look even cooler) a small, blue dragon jumped up behind the swordsman, forcing a pair of goggles onto his forehead, and he overflowed with courage.

As Ilpalazzo stumbled, the old warrior pointed his sword, and with the threat to Tokyo helpless, his course of action was clear... "Hiten Mitsurugi Style – Kuzu Ryu Sen!"

A few seconds later, it was over. Kagato(or perhaps Ilpalazzo; he _had_ possessed that identity for a good, long time – and it was at Lord Ilpalazzo he launched his final arguments) lay bleeding on the pavement, imprisonment or execution his fate. Kenshin Himura returned to the spirit world, Ichigo Kurosaki spotted his reflection in Ilpalazzo's glasses, cast aside the Goggles of Leadership, and resumed his quest to rescue Rukia. In time, the knocked-out masses rose, and while it did seem as though the city's doctors would be overburdened, at least Tokyo was safe.

For now.


End file.
